Page 31 of Wicked Lies

“As you can see, he’s very violent.” Frank smirked.

“I don’t want any trouble, sir, but you’ll have to leave,” one of them insisted as the other moved behind him.

“You just can’t control that violent temper.” Frank locked eyes with him, and it all became clear. Frank set him up.

“You need to leave the premises.” The guard repeated.

What a joke. The guards had guns that never left the holster strapped around their bulging guts.

Nick’s hands were balled into tight fists, and his insides were raw with frustration. “Fuck off. I’m going.”

Nick stormed out with the two guards close behind him. He picked the express elevator to the lobby, then vented his anger on the button. The men stayed at his back until he entered the elevator like he was an escaped convict. He pushed the lobby button and flipped them off seconds before the doorswhooshedclosed.

His heart pounded in his throat. He fought for control, but—fuck, he wanted to slam something hard. Anything to get rid of this ball of frustration burning the pit of his stomach. It was bad enough the bastard set him up, but he fell for it, hard. Sure, he could’ve fought back, but Frank still held the upper hand in the end and could’ve easily had him in cuffs. All the shit he wanted to put together tonight fell apart because of the one man who knew him better than he knew himself.

Nick’s phone buzzed, he checked the screen, and saw six missed calls from Jax.

Swiping the screen, he barked into the phone, “What the hell do you want?”

“Samson’s been beat, bad.”

His head spun, and he gripped the elevator rail until his balance returned.

“Someone ambushed him outside the club,” Jax said. “We brought him up to the apartment, but he don’t look good.”

“Call Doc Henderson.”

Nick pulled his tie until it hung loose around his neck, then undid the first two buttons of his shirt. He braced his hands against the cool mirrored walls of the elevator then slowly raised his head and stared at his reflection. Maybe Samson was right. Maybe the price of freedom was too high.

* * *

Nick enteredthe club from the rear entrance, not wanting to engage in conversation or any distractions. He pushed through the stairwell door and vaulted up the stairs with two things on his mind: get money from the office safe to pay off the doctor and check on Samson.

He pulled out his office key, and the knob turned under his hand. The door should’ve been locked. He eased into the dark room, and his eyes adjusted enough to see light from a cell phone and a shadow crouched by the safe in the corner.

He flipped on the wall switch and squinted against the glaring light. “Looking for something?”

Cheryl sprang to her feet, but her expression confused him. Fear? No, relief.

Her silence prodded him into the room. It seemed another person played him tonight.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Goddamn, how those pouty lips of hers lied so perfectly.

“It looks like you’re trying to fuckin’ steal from me.”

“I’m sorry.” Cheryl’s cock-teasing tongue flicked over her bottom lip, but he kept his focus on the open safe behind her.

He couldn’t ignore the way the Oasis logo on her white tank top rose and fell against her breasts as she heaved in a deep breath.

“If you were looking for money, you would’ve been disappointed.” He flicked his fingers toward the safe. “All that’s in there is petty cash and receipts. The good stuff is in a much safer place.”

Only he and Samson knew about the safe they’d installed under the closet floorboards. A flash in her eyes told him that maybe money wasn’t her motive, so he pushed the envelope a little further.

“But you could’ve just asked. Would’ve been a lot easier than sneaking around in the dark.”

He should’ve been pissed. Anybody else, male or female, and he would’ve had them pinned against the desk with their hands behind their backs. But when he looked at her, everything went sideways.

Cheryl shoved the phone into her pocket and held out her hands. “I didn’t take anything, so can we just forget I was ever here?”

---